Email
PrintYoga, my style
Necessity, you’re not the mother of invention, necessarily. By that, I mean the season of fat is upon us and my New Year’s resolution to shed the dozens of Christmas cookies can’t compete with the luxury of my remote. Television, not overeating, is causing obesity.
But to watch the tube, you need a couch. And struck as I am by my ever-expanding waistline as being a source of shame, especially when balancing food on it as I glide through Godfathers I, II and III, I have found the ultimate shame reducer: couch yoga.
As opposed to “power” yoga, which is a Communist plot and need never be discussed again in the same breath as the real deal, couch yoga’s principles and props are one and the same. Sofa, TV and a spare tire of a gut ready to burst from over-inflation of the caloric kind. If you’ve got those, we’re good to go.
You don’t have to make yourself comfortable because you already are. So here, let’s work the main muscle groups, simply and effectively.
First, the chip-dip stretch or, as we say in Ohio Hindi, Vishnus Marshmallus: Place bowl of chip dip at other end of couch, slowly raise upper half of body, trying to keep legs straight until the pain is unbearable, then bow the legs, grab the chip dip, return to your original position. Repeat four or five times per night. Excellent for the hamstrings and good for the abs. But don’t overdo it.
Then there’s Remotus Mahabingus: Slowly, ever so slowly, extend right arm with cable remote in hand. Drop remote on the floor. Curse. Slowly (again), roll on side and—this is important—pick it up with other arm. Equality in limb stretching is vital in the reincarnation cycle.
There’s also Lovehandlewanna: Lift shirt up so the full girth of your disgusting gut is in plain view. Roll stomach until those around you laugh and tell you to stop and cover it up. Laugh your shame away. Good for the soul.
I’m not done, though. Assume the fetal position. From here, we pull one knee at a time up to the chest, then fling it back the other way. Do this a number of times before rolling over and repeating. Completely useless thing to do, but probably good for your karma somehow. We’re still working on this one.
This last one is great for getting all the crumbs on your chest and stomach to roll back toward your gaping maw. Lie flat with knees bent, then lift pelvis up. At this point, the cable remote probably will slide under you, so watch out. It might get seriously lost in that nether region we call the dark side of the slob. Repeat this until you don’t want to anymore. None of the above is natural so you should feel pretty stupid doing this stuff.
But hey, you are doing something, right?
As for your mind, my fellow sofa supremo, you can keep it occupied with the right mantra. Here are a few I stole from my transcendental meditation days: I-mus, you-mus, we-mus sham-mu-mus. Take ’em as a whole or re-string them. At some point, you’ll think about a whale, ya whale.
Seriously, what do you think of my invention? It’ll bust bogus yoga back to the boonies where it came from. This is a purely American innovation, I can feel it. So now I need to Google some forms from the patent office in Washington, D.C. Here’s my slogan: Couch yoga, invented during halftime but lasts a lifetime.
